Having Kids
Sometimes when I have more social engagements than usual, I feel that I don’t have any “alone time”. I know this is not really true; I just get less than I am accustomed too. It is silly to complain about such things, especially when I compare myself to my peers with young kids with basically no free time. I know that many people really embrace child rearing, but I can’t imagine doing it myself. I don’t know what I would do if I found myself in that situation, although I suppose there would be no time to slip in to self-absorbed depression, it would just be a matter of dealing with one problem after another. I really don’t think I would handle it well and hope it never happens accidentally.
I don’t see myself ever having kids, but I’m okay with that. However, I’m still unsure whether I will regret my decision later in life. I guess I’ll deal with that later if it happens. I probably still have the option for many years yet, but I think for both the parents and the kids, younger is better. Not to be melodramatic and say it is now or never, but given my age there probably is some urgency. Since I can’t see having kids in the near future, then it will most likely end up being never. To put it bluntly: right now, I want to live my life, not someone else’s.
I can’t help but view this as a failure as an organism. By not procreating, I am failing to fulfill my duty to evolution. I find it a troubling concept. Letting billions of years of evolution end with me. It would mean that I am a dead-end. A very personal form of extinction. I consider myself genetically sound, so in some ways I feel a certain obligation to the species to have my genetic material moving forward—or is that just ego talking? Is the fact that I have been unmotivated and depressed much of my life proof that I should let it end here? It was worth a shot, but this particular mix of Willits and Down didn’t pan out, but do not despair: there are countless other genetic combinations to continue the species.
